#TutuBlog 2012-12-30 in Rugby with a green tutu.

Oh my darling readers! You’re not going to believe where I am. Rugby!! No, not the sport (although that's a great spectator sport in a tutu!), but the lovely, historic little town of Rugby in Warwickshire, where, according to rumour, the game of rugby was first played in the schoolyard way back when! I love that it has an “e” on the end. Rugby seems like such a proper, English name.

It's been a crazy couple of days here, as it's been, what, about 3 weeks since my last "proper" travel post? Goodness gracious me. It's not been intentional, but time is just disappearing right in front of my eyes, and it’s not always in a good way. Oh how I dream of a whole month of just uninterrupted tutu travels.

Anyway, as ever, the blog continues on like clockwork – my dear little darling reader, you're more precious than a thousand sparkling sequins, even though you have NO idea of the effort it takes me, or the sheer dedication to my pink cause! But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Oh dear, a day at the stables was supposed to be part of this story, but it all went rather "horsing" around, so we'll leave that for another post. Instead, we're heading straight to my latest adventures...

A whistle blew as our little train slowly drew into Rugby station. The air felt crisper, cleaner somehow. There were ducks quacking, the air filled with a sort of hushed countryside charm, and, dare I say it, even some men in… you guessed it, suits. It all felt decidedly English. But not old-fashioned English – more like a proper Victorian, a gentlemanly Victorian. My kind of Victorian.

I had decided to travel by train on this leg, as a bit of luxury to counteract the rush I'd been experiencing. There's nothing like it - gliding along, being a complete observer without a care in the world! I’m a sucker for travel, especially the nostalgic, romantic kind, which makes trains pretty irresistible to me. I also secretly dream that I will one day buy my very own steam engine! Imagine a train named the "Pink Tutu Express"...

I grabbed my little vintage luggage trolley - well, vintage-ish! You can still pick these up cheaply in some secondhand shops if you’re looking for an accessory for that classic style - and pulled my trolley out onto the platform with the confident carriage of a proper, English, Victoria-esque lady. Well, not exactly, as I am not from the upper classes and my favourite shade is certainly not the dreary drab grey they seem to love! But still, I can live out those old Victorian daydreams whilst I'm on board, can’t I? I find that really inspiring when I’m composing a TutuBlog! I don’t know if you all do this but it’s a secret that I love sharing.

Stepping onto the station platform, it seemed almost sacrilegious to even look at my phone! There was history everywhere you looked. Well, more accurately, history seeped out from every wall and building - there was simply a tangible sense of it that was almost impalpable. Like the whole world just stopped, time froze and said "look, we're keeping our stories in this lovely, sleepy, town called Rugby." The building I'd booked my bed and breakfast in had grand proportions: elegant sash windows, a wrought iron verandah that was clearly built a while ago and a name: “The Rose and Crown.” That, all of that, told me that this would be the place for me - and oh darling, was it!

This quaint and unassuming bed and breakfast is like something straight out of a fairytale story! They have this massive wooden door (which is one of those that you open by a great, clunky handle on the outside!), an airy garden at the back of the building, and then, there’s an antique teapot for each bedroom with an ancient teapot warmer... the thing with these teapots is they just keep pouring for days without a fuss. The rooms all have very traditional English features with lots of antique wood, and there’s this real old-school luxury charm throughout. My bedroom was called the "Ruby Rose". Oh, that English romance, and to add to it, you can see a little bit of Rugby School on a hill just outside my window - I had actually booked the bedroom for its views. Honestly, they look almost mythical in the early mornings. This place was already in love with its past... and, frankly, so was I. This is one of those magical places you always hope to find, one that captures the heart in the blink of an eye, and you just know it’s going to be one of those that stay with you for ever.

“But this is like my favourite hotel ever," I’d say in an email to my sister later that day. (Sorry darling sister, but Rugby won this one!)

“Really Emma?!” she replied. (she always loves to play devil’s advocate.)

“This is just magic,” I replied, almost feeling a bit sentimental and unable to say another word…

### Where shall we go for tea…?

This whole trip had a definite Victorian aesthetic so, of course, the first thing I did when I settled into my bed and breakfast room (and took those ridiculously over-exposed snaps for instagram! Sorry, you're probably getting bored with my social media now, darling readers!), was to have an impromptu afternoon tea in the sitting room... (Don’t worry, I brought my favourite pink teapot along!) But before that I decided to walk around the town, the afternoon sun beaming down on the lovely little squares that form its historic heart. You’re just strolling along the high street and it's as though you are walking in an old English novel or some sort of whimsical dream of "chocolate box villages"! They just don’t make villages like that anymore (and let’s be honest, no, you don't actually want them too, darling readers - especially as traffic lights would make a mockery of the quaint! ) It was absolutely magical! You’ve probably gathered by now that Rugby has stolen my heart. I do like the place, quite a lot, but my heart… is always with the tutu! (It always comes back to that for me. ) I thought my first little walk about town had to end with tea!

As a "real" tea drinker and devotee, a true pink-tutu, high-fashion aficionado, my eyes searched and searched the streets to discover the most magnificent tea room I could possibly find! This was something for me, and this needed to be absolutely perfect. I found it all snuggled on a street around the corner. This "Old English Tearoom," if you will (this isn’t a proper description at all!) had those old, wood-beamed ceilings, a huge fire, comfy, plush-stuffed, velvet armchairs and even a tiny tea shop attached with rows upon rows of tea in various colourful, whimsical boxes... (Don’t worry, it had more of those tea things I love to see when you visit the proper places! – it was truly tea-tastic, as a proper pink tutu would call it). But oh dear... what happened after tea…

What to do with a beautiful Saturday evening and what to wear?! Well, I was already feeling fabulous and feeling those "proper Victorian English” vibes as they were just bubbling up! In those last moments of that golden evening light (that magical light in England - you really feel those dramatic shadows and it just all gets so much prettier...), a delightful thought hit me… what if I borrowed a horse? You never know, a nice Victorian chap might ask me for a horse ride? And then, of course, we would… Well, all sorts of magical things happen in dreams! And there was I dreaming and thinking, while watching the sun slowly dip and the shadows of Rugby School on the hillside becoming increasingly deep... And with one phone call, one email to the livery yard… I had a horse waiting, patiently, for me…

You know me and my lovely long floral dresses – how amazing would it have looked, with that beautiful sunshine glinting off a bright green satin petticoat that I always make sure I’ve got with me… just in case I need to put on a quick show?! Well, it happened – you’ve gotta be in the moment darling readers! My TutuBlog is full of these things. The horse I had was called ‘Lady Godiva’… So that was a bit cheeky! I knew immediately, from that very first look across the fields to that glorious sky, and all the magic around, it was meant to be, oh I did love the feeling…

A glorious dusk that lit the countryside in all those romantic warm hues that you just can’t replicate anywhere else – it all ended up feeling like one of those old-school Hollywood films! But let’s keep it real now! Let’s not get too dreamy for the sake of it…

I must confess that one thing was getting to me… well… I felt like “Lady Godiva” knew, she somehow felt it as well... It happened - I just knew it had to! That amazing twilight walk through the fields, the trees, with Lady Godiva… well I must be frank, dear readers! You'll have to come back for this one! The full story will have to be next time, for a later blog... for now we must head on to other fabulous and more fashionable, things…

So… you want to wear a pink tutu? I thought you would, because that is really my dream! I think that everyone could look beautiful in a pink tutu - even boys! Now, I must confess this really was a wild dream that popped into my head, a really crazy and completely tutu-tastic, out-there dream…. I always had that strange notion in the back of my mind “Imagine if people just woke up wearing pink tutus every single day, wouldn't it just be wonderful!" But here I am, in my usual state of bliss, trying to find just one way in the world to get the ball rolling… I just want to do this, darling readers, it is a huge mission! If you'd like to join me on this, you know what to do – you know where to go: www.pink-tutu.com

See you all next time…

Emma

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